


you're my lovely queen, i'm your dirty king

by justwantedtodance



Series: you send me back on my heels. [1]
Category: Crazy Ex-Girlfriend (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Harry Potter Setting, Alternate Universe - Hogwarts, Dirty Talk, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Love Potion/Spell, Shameless Smut, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-05
Updated: 2019-09-05
Packaged: 2020-10-10 06:24:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,075
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20523413
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/justwantedtodance/pseuds/justwantedtodance
Summary: Harry Potter AU. Rebecca Bunch needs a Love Potion, and, much to her dismay, Nathaniel Plimpton is the one wizard who can help her get it. Hijinks ensue.





	you're my lovely queen, i'm your dirty king

**Author's Note:**

> A few notes:
> 
> I did a LOT of research for this. My HP knowledge is severely lacking, so I consulted a lot of sources to find this information. 
> 
> For all those not as familiar with HP, the Wiki is a wonderful and endless source of information, but I tried to make things as clear as possible. Feel free to ask me questions; trust me, I had lots!
> 
> In this universe, I'd say Rebecca is about 15 and Nathaniel is about 16.

For a half-blood, she really is lovely.

Rebecca Nora Bunch is certainly not his type in the slightest. With her short quirky stature and her obnoxious chortle of a laugh and her strong opinions about everything that she flaunts in people’s faces. No, Nathaniel Plimpton has a reputation to uphold that involves getting involved with anyone who isn’t her.

At least she’s abandoned those hideous glasses that swallowed her face and has perhaps mastered some charm for taming her ferocious beast of mousy brown hair since he first saw her, nose nestled in a book of poetry with a dreamy smile in her own little corner of the library during their second year. Turns out, she had been searching for the key to the heart of the dimwitted Hufflepuff Quidditch captain, Josh Chan, and before their fifth year, she finally seized her moment.

After his victorious goal in the second match of the Inter-House Quidditch Cup, Rebecca found Josh in the stands, and she recited some flowery, nonsensical passage from a Muggle film before asking him to attend the Yule Ball with her. All the while, Nathaniel’s Slytherin teammates snickered and feigned gagging noises at the ostentatious scene before them. Yeah, they were right. Love _ is _ gross. It’s corny and utterly unattainable except for in fiction, but worse than that, love is fleeting and can end just as quickly as it began.

Which is why months later, a heavily guarded piece of Nathaniel’s heart broke when she left the End-of-Term Feast and waited at the Astronomy Tower for Josh to say goodbye before summer holiday, but he never showed. The leggy blonde Ravenclaw that Nathaniel essentially eye-fucked from across the hall at the Feast all but begged him to give her sanctuary from Rebecca’s sobbing in her friend Heather’s bed to which Nathaniel obliged, though a weird hesitancy and concern filled his chest. His emotional intelligence is still quite weak, but he knew then that Rebecca loved Josh and knew how devastated she must have been over holiday.

September came quickly, and while he wasn’t particularly _ looking _ for her, Nathaniel was curious about where Rebecca was since he didn’t see her during the Welcoming Feast. He didn’t _ want _ to see her, but he still wondered where she was. It was only upon leaving the Great Hall that Nathaniel heard Valencia Perez call her over, but he couldn’t recognize her. 

Her hair was so neatly styled, curled to the slopes of her shoulders and darkened dramatically to a deep, seductive brown. Did she get taller? Oh, mother of Merlin. She had boobs now. It took a long minute before Nathaniel could even consider retrieving his jaw from the floor and even longer when she caught his eyes from across the room, shot him a closed-lip smirk, tossed her hair over her shoulder, and sauntered towards the Gryffindor common room.

From that moment on, Nathaniel found himself begrudgingly but inexplicably attracted to Rebecca Bunch.

Of course, he’d never tell her or anyone that. She’s just compelling in the most unexplainable ways. Perhaps it’s because their intellectual banter can’t be matched by anyone in his year, let alone anyone above him. She finds his affinity for literature arousing. He finds her references to Muggle books and films amusing, even if he doesn’t understand many of them. They’re able to have the same types of conversations on the same level. She still challenges him with her strong opinions and vomit-inducing optimism about the good in the world and in people, and if there’s one thing Nathaniel never does, it’s back down from a challenge. They debate incessantly, and it would be a lie for him to say he’s not at least a little turned on by their verbal sparring match; it’s their unique brand of foreplay that he’ll never act on.

Because even with her very lovely, newly acquired, smoldering good looks, she’s still an insufferable goody two-shoes. Exceeding Expectations is never good enough for her; she must be Outstanding, and the most outstanding at that, and she must let everyone know about it, even if they didn’t ask. Unfortunately, he sits one table away from her in Potions where today, she’s discussing the readings for tomorrow’s lesson that she’s already completed with her chirpy Ravenclaw friend and table mate, Maya.

“I have no doubt that if I keep this up, I’ll pass my O.W.L. with flying colors, and maybe perhaps I’ll be admitted into Professor Akopian’s Advanced Potions class next year.” Nathaniel sputters a laugh and rolls his eyes. Rebecca swivels her body to her left, resting her head in her palm and shooting Nathaniel an unimpressed stare. “Comments from the Pixie Gallery?”

“There’s no way you’ll make it into Advanced Potions. Akopian only takes Outstanding students, and the selection criteria beyond that is highly selective. Better luck next time, Bunch.”

The heat of a challenge rising in her veins, she scoots her stool closer to Nathaniel, and she folds her arms, sitting up taller to match his eye level. “And what makes you so sure I won’t get in?”

He smirks at her, taking the bait, and leans in. “You haven’t started brewing Felix Felicis, have you?”

Rebecca’s mouth drops open, and she scrambles for a witty retort that never comes. “But we don’t learn how to brew that one in this class. That’s a sixth year potion, you imbecile! If you mess it up, it could have serious consequences.”

“So I’m not going to mess it up.”

His gross overconfidence makes Rebecca’s skin crawl. He’s no smarter or more well-equipped than she is. She could easily outperform him in the practical portion of the O.W.L. if he lets his impatience and hubris get the better of him. Which she can only hope it will. He seems to have everything handed to him without so much as lifting a finger. Athleticism, intellect, sex appeal… _ wait, what? _

Heaving a sigh, Rebecca asks, “What use could you possibly have for that potion anyhow?”

Another of his impish smirks spreads across his face as he finds her eyes once more. “What can I say? I’m just a young wizard who’s looking to get very, _ very _ lucky.” And then, he winks at her. The audacity!

Nathaniel and Josh Wilson, his Quidditch teammate and best friend (or whatever the Slytherin equivalent to a friend is since the lot of them aren’t skilled at making and keeping those), laugh and fist bump each other as Rebecca turns up her nose in disgust and loudly drags her stool as far away from Nathaniel as she can, plopping down on it with a harrumph and focusing only on her notebook in front of her. That is, until she can’t.

If Nathaniel’s working on sixth year potions already, then that must mean he could… ohhh, she knows _ exactly _ what she has to do.

Somewhere in the span of summer holiday, Rebecca’s perspective changed. After many nights spent weeping and wishing for Josh to change his mind and give her a call or send her a text or an email (being back in the Muggle world meant access to more instantaneous modes of communication), she realized there was no sense waiting around for him. He was clearly blind and stupid to give up being with Rebecca, top of her class and personality to boot, so she knew crying about it wasn’t going to help her case.

So, she needed to take decisive action.

And that’s when the idea struck her.

Once Professor Akopian dismisses the students from class, Rebecca eavesdrops to find out which way Nathaniel is heading, and she tails him without making herself too obvious that she’s following him. As he makes his way up to the first floor and waves to a few fellow Slytherins down the hall, Rebecca seizes his momentary distraction for one of her own, dragging him by his tie to the nearest broom closet and locking the door behind her.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa. Not that I don’t find this arousing because I _ absolutely _ do, but ummm, what the hell’s going on, Bunch?”

“Shut up and listen,” she hisses. Direct and demanding? He’s certainly intrigued now. Her voice drops down to a conspiratorial whisper as she lets go of his tie but stays close. “I’m only going to say this once, so you better listen closely.” She takes a pause, gathering all her strength, and mumbles, “I need your help.”

Nathaniel looks positively baffled, his eyes widening impossibly. “I’m sorry, I didn’t quite catch that. Would you mind repeating that for me just once more and a little bit louder? Maybe right up here—?” he points to a miniscule exposed area of his neck above his shirt collar, and Rebecca rolls her eyes, slapping his hand away.

“You heard what I said. Go back to shutting up and listening.” Nathaniel holds his hands up in surrender and lets her make her request. “So, over the course of the last few months, it appears I’ve ensnared myself in a bit of a predicament… in badger territory.”

Nathaniel huffs. “Still hooked on Chan? First off, don’t waste your time. He’s not worth it. And secondly, I’m afraid I can’t be of much service in the romance department. You wouldn’t want my advice or bother to take it anyway.”

“I don’t want your advice, I want a Love Potion!”

Her request makes him uneasy. It’s not that he couldn’t figure out how to brew a Love Potion, but involving himself in other people’s affairs isn’t a good look for him, nor does it benefit him in any way. It’s not like he has any reason to give or receive a Love Potion, so why bother trying to learn it unless he has to?

Hesitantly, Nathaniel reminds her, “Love Potions can’t give you real love, you know—”

She’s quick to counter, desperation creeping into her voice. “Maybe not with other people, but for me and Josh, there _ is _ something real there, I know it. I just have to make him see it too.”

“No, Rebecca, I’m not getting pulled into your drama no matter what you say.” He reaches for the door lock, but Rebecca stops him shy, covering his hand with her own.

“I’ll give you anything you want in return.”

Nathaniel quirks his eyebrows and hums in the back of his throat, his eyes glazing over and voice turning husky. He carefully slides his palm inside Rebecca’s, rubbing his thumb along the curve of her thumb and first finger. “Anything, huh?”

Rebecca pushes him back a few steps with a disgusted groan. “Eww, no. Anything but that. I’ll have you know, that is reserved for someone who understands my mind, body, and soul. My soulmate, Josh Chan.”

Nathaniel makes a gagging noise. “You Gryffindors can be so hideously boring sometimes.” Rebecca’s mouth drops open, and she scoffs in offense. “You’re lucky I only said sometimes.”

“Excuse you, I am not boring. You might say Josh has awakened my sexual being for the first time.” Nathaniel shifts uncomfortably, and she realizes that he probably didn’t need to be privy to that information. She takes a collecting breath and refocuses her efforts on persuasion since she’s uncertain that Nathaniel’s on board. “Anyway, I’ll give you whatever you want besides… well, _ that _ , or anything _ relating _ to that, might I add? How about the answers to any Transfiguration homework we have for the rest of the year?”

He puffs out air and folds his arms. “Homework answers? That’s juvenile, Bunch, even for you. Come on, what can you _ really _offer me to get me to help you?”

Rebecca closes the space between them, and his eyes can’t stop themselves from travelling down to find hers but not before glancing a bit further down at her chest. It’s not his fault that her boobs are just… _ there _ now. The way she’s slinking towards him tempts him all the more to imagine some things he’d never share with her.

“How about the name of someone who wants to be one of your… conquests?”

Nathaniel’s lips turn up predatorily. “Now, _ that’s _ more like it. Who is she? Or he? I’ve heard it from both sides.”

Of course he has. If she wasn’t trying to seduce him into helping her, she’d plunge her eyes into the back of her head.

“Ah-ah-ah,” she tuts, pressing her finger to his lips. “Not until the deal is done. You help me get my potion, I help you get… off.” She brightens her pitch as her blue doe eyes trace the line her fingers tread up the fabric of his emerald green tie. “So, what do you say? Help me, Nathaniel Plimpton. You’re my only hope.”

He trains his eyes on a crack in the ceiling, resisting the urge to fall victim to those innocent eyes and pouty lips. He knows all of her tricks. They’ve worked for her since second year when he met her, and if she follows through on the reward she’s promising, he might be able to be persuaded. Just don’t look into her… damnit.

“I should assume by now that you’re quoting some Muggle film that I have absolutely no frame of reference for,” he deadpans, eyes still refusing to look her way.

“_ Star Wars _ is cinematic art, and I know I say that about a lot of movies, but… come on, it’s _ Star Wars _. You won’t go your whole life without seeing it, I’m making sure of that. But seriously, will you help me? Please?”

He ponders the proposal just for a moment and then extends his hand to shake hers in agreeance. “You’ve got yourself a deal.”

They shake hands cordially, but something fizzles beneath their skin that’s warm but not exactly friendly. Neither of them chooses to acknowledge its existence; it’s better that way.

Rebecca asks Nathaniel to meet her in the kitchens after dinner, and after being polite enough to help the house-elves with clean up, they allowed her entrance and use of the space for the evening. She’s planning to whip up a batch of delicious cupcakes, a recipe from Professor Proctor, who was generous enough to give away her secret ingredient. 

Paula’s been a long-time mentor and friend to Rebecca, despite that Rebecca nearly failed her Divination elective in third year. Let’s say she had a few other more pressing matters on the brain that interrupted her ability to concentrate on predicting actual signs and reduced her thoughts to daydreams and doodles of Joshua Felix Chan. In fact, Paula was one of the first ones to pick up on her crush on Josh and immediately made Rebecca and Josh’s love story her new project… she called it practical application of classroom lessons. When she heard the devastating news about their messy split at the end of last term and how Rebecca wanted to win back his affections, Paula enlisted herself in the two-person army without hesitation and promised to help Rebecca in any way she could, which started with giving her a stellar cupcake recipe guaranteed to melt Josh’s mouth and his heart. Obviously, she had researched his favorite flavors to make sure these cupcakes would seal the deal.

When he finds her just after 8:30 that evening, she’s already in the kitchens busy at work preparing her recipe. Rebecca’s height prevents her from reaching some of the items she needs on taller cupboards, and she’s using a rickety stool to boost herself onto the countertop to reach a large mixing bowl atop the cupboard shelf. It would be the most inopportune time to come inside and risk startling her, so he avoids the possibility of her breaking her back from falling down and waits with the door ajar until she’s safely planted with both feet on the ground. He’d take pleasure in seeing anyone else take a tumble, but she’s the exception. Not because he cares about her. Not at all.

Though he can’t help himself but admire her organization, how each ingredient is neatly aligned with another in the order she’s meant to mix them together. Bowls of every shape and size with an array of sweets and spices inside lay neatly across the length of the table. He notices she’s pulled her hair away from her face into a high messy bun, a few small strands hanging loosely from the back of her neck. She’s also deposited her robe on a door hanger and tied an apron around her waist to keep anything from spilling onto her clothes. At least the apron covers her chest so he can’t stare at it. 

_ Don’t let your mind go there, Plimpton. _

She’s reading the recipe card and paying precise attention to detail, biting her lip in that frustrating and too arousing to be innocent way as she does so. 

_ Wait a minute. Just a minute. No, no, no, no. _

Nathaniel blinks and jolts himself to attention, finally entering the kitchens.

“I hope you know I left evening Quidditch practice early for this,” Nathaniel grumbles, depositing his armfuls of illicit ingredients on the only clear space at the end of the long table she’s using.

She looks up from the bowl, her whisk nearly drowning in the eggy mixture when she gasps in surprise. “Scheduling Quidditch practices outside of regulatory hours? Why, I should deduct House points from you! Unfortunately, I can’t since you’re also a prefect.”

Nathaniel sets aside his mortar and pestle and faces her. “I should say the same of you, being in the kitchens so late. Though sadly, prefects can’t deduct points for other prefect’s actions, so I guess we both have our own little secrets to keep, don’t we?”

“It would appear so,” Rebecca says, her voice breathier than she intended. She mentally blames the cloud from the flour she just poured into her bowl, though it’s his proximity that steals the air from her lungs. Thankfully, he returns to his work station without bothering to question or pursue her uncharacteristic tone of voice.

The two of them fall into a silent but comfortable pattern of work as Nathaniel flips through the pages of his Potions book to find the recipe he’s looking for. He could have picked an ordinary Love Potion, but this is no ordinary case, so Amortentia is the only acceptable option. It’s the most powerful Love Potion known to the wizarding world, which means its success rate must be high. Which is fantastic because the sooner he can brew this up, the faster he can leave, find out who wants to have sex with him, and go back to his _ very _ busy life.

“Hey, would you mind locking the kitchens door for a minute,” Rebecca asks, stepping away from her bowl and fetching her robe from the other side of the room.

“Why?”

“Just do it, please?” Nathaniel obeys, waving his wand and casting the Locking Spell on the door for… what reason exactly? It’s then Rebecca retrieves a flask from the inner pocket of her robe, and Nathaniel’s eyes nearly leap out of his head.

“Whoa, are you out of your mind?! You know you can’t have alcohol in here.”

Rebecca laughs. “It’s for the cupcakes, nitwit. And you say _ I’m _ the goody two-shoes.”

She starts to measure the correct amount she needs to add to her bowl when Nathaniel leans on the tabletop. “I bet you won’t drink it though,” he challenges.

“How much?”

“Alcohol?”

“No, how much do you bet that I won’t drink it,” she fires back, setting the measuring cup down and returning his provoking stare.

“How does 15 Galleons sound?”

“I don’t need or want any of your daddy’s blood money, thank you very much,” Rebecca scoffs.

“I actually earned that money when I worked for my father at home this summer, thank _ you _ very much,” he retorts. “Now, do you want the money or not?”

“Let me see it first, and then I’ll drink.”

He tilts his head at her in surprise, lost for words momentarily, as he uses the Summoning Charm to show her the money he promised for her drinking some of the rum in the flask. She smiles when she’s counted all 15 Galleons, and he laughs a little at her diligence. “Has anyone ever told you that you’d make an excellent lawyer?”

“Better watch out, Plimpton, you may have some competition on your hands,” she teases as she jumps up to sit on the table.

He pours each of them a shot’s worth of rum from the flask and sets her portion next to her leg. “Unlikely, though I hope you’re prepared for a fight. I’m known to play dirty.”

Rebecca leans in, her eyes for once level with Nathaniel’s. “Oh, I know. And don’t worry, I’m prepared. If anything, I look forward to it.” She lifts her glass, prepared to propose a toast. “To healthy competition?”

“To healthy competition.” 

Rebecca and Nathaniel clink glasses and toss their heads back, letting the rum slide down their throats. When she lifts her head again and opens her eyes, she finds Nathaniel looking at her with pupils blown a little too wide to be platonic, his mouth curled upwards in an almost catlike smile. He looks like he could pounce at any moment. Rebecca’s eyes flit downwards to his mouth, and hers parts of its own accord when she sees him wet his lips to lick a stray drop of alcohol from the corner of his mouth. It would be so easy, so natural to let down her inhibitions and just let herself kiss him, considering he doesn’t look like he’d be opposed to stopping her. She’s at the perfect angle, too. She leans in closer, but not close enough.

“Whew! I hope some of that stuff bakes out. I’m trying to get Josh drunk on the Love Potion, not the alcohol.” Rebecca claps him on the shoulder and hides her flushed face from Nathaniel with a laugh as she hops off the table, immediately returning to her mixing bowl, stirring more vigorously than she needs to. Damn, those goosebumps are back. She ends up splashing a bit of batter onto the table and eases her strokes a bit.

Nathaniel stands next to her stunned in silence for a few moments at what almost happened. If she had leaned in just a few centimeters more, he might have taken the chance at leaning in with her, but if she pursues him, he wants it to fully be her choice. He eventually composes himself, clearing his throat and moving back to mixing his own ingredients and combining them in the cauldron per the Potions book’s instructions.

They make sparse conversation about nothing in particular, classes and such, as they work, and once Rebecca finishes loading the cupcake batter into the tin, she places it in the oven to bake for about 20 minutes. Until they’re ready, she can work on the frosting, where she’s planning to drop the Love Potion.

“How’s it going over there?”

“Not bad, actually. I think I’m close to being finished. Do you want to have a look?”

Rebecca stops mixing for a moment and makes her way to his side of the table. “Technically, you’d be the expert on this subject, but sure, I want to see.” She peers into the cauldron and hums in satisfaction. “Hmmm, the sheen looks like it’s the right color, and I think that’s the shape of the spirals too, if I read it correctly.” 

Rebecca wafts the bubbling liquid towards her nose and takes a sniff of the rising steam. Amortentia smells like the things each individual finds most attractive, so for Rebecca, she expects her favorite things: wood freshly burning that reminds her of an autumn bonfire in Scarsdale, freshly baked challah bread, one of her mother’s delicacies and one of the few things Rebecca likes about her, and strawberry glazed donuts, her favorite flavor. 

“Smells right to me. You?”

Nathaniel repeats her action and ponders what he smells for a moment. Redwood trees that remind him of long walks and runs he takes through the woods here and at home, salty ocean water, and warm vanilla like his mother used in his birthday cakes when he was younger, though he’s not thought of that in quite some time. When he opens his eyes, he realizes how close his face is to Rebecca’s and backs away slowly trying not to draw too much attention to it. Avoid the temptation, resist the urge, keep it together.

“Yeah, I think it’s right.”

“Great, I’m almost done mixing the frosting so we should be able to add it in just a second.” She smiles and stirs her ingredients together a final time to make sure no clumps of butter or sugar remain and that the yellow food coloring she uses is blended in evenly. Not only will it mask the sheen of the Love Potion inside, but it’s also Josh’s House color, so she deems it appropriate. “Oh, could you take a peek and check on the cupcakes for me, please?”

“Sure.” Nathaniel heads to the oven to find the miniature cakes risen into small domes in the tin. “I think they look ready.”

“Awesome. Would you get a pick and stick it inside one of them to make sure they’re done on the inside?”

Nathaniel, not the expert in the kitchen, asks her, “So, do I just stick it in, or…?”

“Yeah, just put it in, twist it around a few times. Make sure it’s deep, you’ve got to go all the way in, and it needs to come out clean,” she instructs distractedly as she’s mixing her frosting. Amid her distraction in her task, she doesn’t realize the alternative meaning her words have. Luckily, she’s facing away from him so she doesn’t see the visible shiver that runs through his body, but he does as she says and reports back a clean sweep.

He uses a mitt to take the cupcakes from the oven and sets them to cool on the far end of the table away from either of them. She’s just finished up stirring her frosting, and once Nathaniel sets the cupcakes down, he pours the Amortentia into the phials he brought with him. The smallest one will be for the frosting, but the rest of them, he plans to give to her for use another time since he has no desire to use them himself.

She extends her hand to take the phial for the frosting but accidentally brushes her fingers along his. The fizzling happens again, stronger this time, and it makes Rebecca’s hand tremble as she pulls away with a small gasp. She catches Nathaniel’s eyes, only for a fleeting second, as he looks back at the cauldron to avoid the temptation once again. Rebecca steadies her hand and lets three drops of Amortentia fall into the bowl. 

Nathaniel watches her keenly from over her shoulder, his breath tickling the fallen strands of hair at the back of her neck, and it sends shivers racing through her body, especially down beneath her skirt. The steam rises in its characteristic spirals and eventually fades as it dissolves into the cool icing. Immediately, she stirs the mixture once more to gauge whether she needs more to cover the entire batch of frosting.

“Rebecca, why are you going through all this trouble if the love in this potion isn’t real,” Nathaniel asks, breaking the tense silence between them.

“I brought you here so you could help me make the potion, not so you could question my decisions. So, you can go now,” she answers in frustration, stirring harder so that her spoon clinks against the edges of the bowl with each turn.

“No, I want to know why this is so important to you.”

“Because we’re supposed to be together, and he’s just being a dumb, stupid boy right now thinking dumb, stupid boy thoughts, so he can’t see that we have a future together.” She walks away from him to check on the cupcakes, and thankfully, he doesn’t pursue after her.

“Josh Chan _ is _ a dumb, stupid boy, I’m glad you’ve finally recognized it. Also, a friendly reminder that you barely passed Divination, if I recall, so I’m a bit skeptical on your ability to predict the future.”

She sneers at him from the other end of the table. “Fine. Well, if _ you’re _ so smart, then read my palm and tell me, what does my future look like, hmm?”

She stomps back over to him and thrusts her palm into his own, and he stares at it with his mouth agape, unsure of what to do. “Rebecca, I…”

“Tell me what it says,” she begs, her voice growing higher. Nathaniel’s thumb is smoothing over the creases in her tiny hand as he looks down at it, still in shock that he’s holding her hand. Finally, he swallows and looks into her eyes, whispering her name once more. “What?” She’s on the verge of frustrated tears, and he’s staring at her with an expression she’s never seen on his face before, so vulnerable and warm. He can’t speak, can’t move, can’t think.

And it only intensifies when she reaches out to grab his face and pull him down to kiss her.

She’s frenzied and reckless, her teeth clicking against his as she opens her mouth to envelop all of his. Nathaniel doesn’t process what’s happening until he hears the strangled noise that leaves her throat and finally kisses her back, the tension that’s been building between them the whole night sparking wildly around them. Rebecca tightens her fingers around the back of his neck to kiss him deeper and presses her body flush to his. Before she loses herself completely in his aphrodisiac for a mouth and takes things too far, Rebecca pulls away breathing hard, her forehead resting against his. She finally finds his eyes and judging by the confusion written across Nathaniel’s face, she knows she’s made a terrible mistake.

“Oh my god,” she whispers. Rebecca takes a few steps back, hiding her face in her hands. “Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god. Nathaniel, I’m so…” She wipes her hands down her flour-dusted apron, then grips the edge of the table to balance herself. “What was I…”

“I— I should…” Nathaniel trails off hoarsely, his voice failing him. Rebecca says nothing, the tears beginning to spring from her eyes, so he takes it as a sign to retreat. He unlocks the door, grabs his things, and closes the kitchens door behind him. 

Leaning back against the heavy wood, Nathaniel replays the last 30 seconds in his mind and feels the goosebumps rise to his skin beneath his sweater. He’s never kissed her before. He’s always wanted to, despite every excuse he made to everyone else and especially to himself that he didn’t want to. But she kissed _ him_. Like a wildfire doused in gasoline. Maybe it was the result of his badgering, but he didn’t expect her to kiss that way.

And he doesn’t expect to want to march right back in there and do it again.

He doesn’t, though. He tamps down his baser urge and walks away, knowing she clearly feels upset and guilty because of her actions, and he doesn’t want to make things worse.

Meanwhile, Rebecca’s overwhelmed with too many emotions to handle at once. For starters, she’s in love with Josh, not Nathaniel, so why in the world did she just kiss him? Normally, she would never think to do anything so foolish and unplanned. She doesn’t take risks or do anything without someone else’s approval or encouragement. But she just kissed him without thinking twice about it.

If she has to be completely honest with herself, she can’t say she hasn’t thought about kissing him like that before either. Though, who wouldn’t want to kiss Nathaniel Plimpton like that? You’d have to be blind or just plain stupid if you haven’t thought about it at least once. Perhaps she’s speculated a few times where their intellectual banter could morph into something more, but he’s never consciously been the star of any of her teenage sexual fantasies. Not that he couldn’t be… but _ no_, she’s in love with Josh, and he needs to fall back in love with her. So, she has to finish these cupcakes and not let herself get distracted by… other things. Specifically, tall, blonde, and handsome things.

Nathaniel returns to the dormitory just after 10:00 and hopes Rebecca finished her cupcakes in time to make it back before curfew. He crawls into bed for the night and hopes to find rest easily now that he’s stopped thinking about Rebecca for the moment, but he tosses and turns and wakes up in the middle of the night, a sheet of sweat making his nightclothes stick to his body after a particularly hot dream involving Rebecca. Quietly as he can, he slides his feet into his slippers and makes his way to the toilets to relieve himself before going back to bed.

He closes his eyes and begins to touch himself in the stall. He thinks about pressing his face between her legs underneath her skirt with her back pressed against the blackboard, digging into the chalk tray. The way she moans and curls her fingers in his scalp is music to his ears. They’re alone in this fantasy classroom, so he makes sure he can hear the sounds she makes to write them into a somatic symphony for sleep. He thinks about what it would be like to hold her breast in his hand while he stands behind her and hardens her nipple with his thumb as she’s baking. She licks frosting from her fingertip and scoops a bit for him to suck from her finger. He imagines she’s naked, minus the apron, and just as he unties the bow in the small of her back and reaches his hand around to finger her, he comes hot in his hand with a curse and hopes no one heard him. Embarrassed by his hormone-fueled moment of weakness, Nathaniel cleans himself off quickly and calms his breath before going back to bed.

When he returns to bed, sleep does come to him, peaceful and dreamless, though, it most certainly is not. His dreams are inundated with thoughts of her mouth on his body, her hands in his hair, her lips wrapped around his…

It doesn’t help that she’s drumming her fingers against the tabletop and she’s curling her lips around her fountain pen as she takes her pop quiz in Charms. Nathaniel can’t focus on his own test with how enticing she’s being, her lack of intention behind her behavior be damned. He doesn’t know how long he’s been staring at her, but when Professor Albright calls that time is finished for their quiz, Nathaniel realizes he’s only filled in three of his ten answers and wishes he could make time freeze in that moment for him to fill in his test and focus on that instead of Rebecca. He scribbles what he can in the time it takes for Connie to collect their papers, though he knows it’s not on par with his usual performance. Rebecca hands her paper in with a small smile and happens to glance back to her left and finds Nathaniel staring at her with a hunger that sends a chill down her spine. She gulps and tries to avoid his hard-pressed stare, tucking her hair behind her ear and turning around to face the front of the classroom.

She’s mid-sentence writing the phonetics for a new charm when a sheet of paper brushes against her sleeve and interrupts her thought process. Rebecca huffs and discreetly unfolds the note.

_ Meet me on the seventh floor after class. We need to talk. _

It’s easy to discern the handwriting on the page, but she really gets her clue when she turns back to the left corner of the classroom and her favorite blonde-haired distraction is staring at her once again. Rebecca tries to look emotionless as she acknowledges his note and agrees to his terms, but the leap in her stomach makes it difficult to hide how she really feels.

Whether or not she meant for it to happen, she shifts forward in her seat and exposes a fair bit of the pale flesh of her thigh to him. He noticed her long socks earlier on, but to not have tights underneath her uniform skirt? Is she trying to scandalize him?

Another note flies her way in the middle part of class.

_ Dress code violation, Miss Bunch? Seems like grounds for a severe reprimand to me. _

She glances back in his direction, her tongue gliding delicately over her lips as her hooded eyes make contact with his. A reprimand that could have some enjoyable consequences.

Charms couldn’t end soon enough for either of them.

Eventually, Connie dismisses the students with a flourish of her long scarf, and while many of them are finished for the day, Nathaniel and Rebecca have Care of Magical Creatures with Professor Whitefeather after their lunch period. Nathaniel couldn’t have packed his things faster and dashed from the classroom to the seventh floor of the castle where he waits pacing for his classmate. The classmate in question is taking her sweet time packing her belongings and lingering back to talk to Heather and Valencia about the fifth and sixth year social taking place the following evening. Rebecca wishes them well as they split off in the hallway, and she tries to keep a steady pace as not to appear too eager.

Meanwhile, Nathaniel waits at the deserted corner of the seventh floor, walking back and forth with his hands in tight fists, eyes shut and imagining what it would be like to be with her alone. He’s not been able to escape the thoughts all day, and they’ve decidedly taken a sexual and possessive tone. He wants to kiss her, slide his tongue inside her mouth, pull the tie from her loose ponytail so he can tangle his fingers in her dark hair. It’s been a fantasy of his to leave his mark on her neck, obviously where her shirt could conceal it, but he aches to sink his teeth into her skin and hopes she moans like she did in his dream. And oh god, if he doesn’t touch her breasts soon, he thinks he might die. He’s never wanted so badly to touch any other girl’s boobs, but hers makes him quickly change his tune, and he’s curious how she’d respond to his touch. Would she like it better if he’s gentle or rough, teasing or generous?

Suddenly, a door appears on the side of the blank wall, and he knows his desperation is truly palpable and real. As the door appears, so does Rebecca, ascending the last few stairs nervously. She cautiously makes her way over to Nathaniel, also taking notice of the door where a wall typically lies and lifts her eyebrows in question.

“You said you wanted to talk? What did you want to talk a—”

Lust seizes him by the throat, and Nathaniel grabs her wrist to pull her inside the room, immediately pressing her back against the door and kissing her. Rebecca makes a sound of surprise against his lips before it melts into a moan as he kisses her fiercely. She’s not complaining and certainly not _ not _ consenting to this activity, but she moves her face away from his and gains some distance to talk to him.

“Wait, Nathaniel, I’m not complaining, but I thought you said you wanted to talk?”

“There’s more than one way of talking, Bunch,” he mumbles as his lips return to her neck, kissing along the shell of her ear. _ Oh_, that’s good. Too good.

“Wait, wait, wait, hang on, hang on,” she protests, turning her face towards his. “Seriously, what’s going on that you needed to talk to me about?”

Nathaniel scatters kisses along her face and her hair as he talks. “I can’t stop thinking about you. Not since last night. Every time I close my eyes, you’re right there, and I just… I just need you.”

He kisses her neck, finding her thrumming pulse point and stopping to lavish ample attention to it. While Rebecca certainly is enjoying it because _ wow _, he could certainly kiss, something catches her off-guard. “Roses…” she mutters to herself. “Hey Nathaniel, did you happen to consume any of the frosting we made?”

“Uhh… I sampled off the side of the bowl and licked my finger, so what? Chan can eat more than my spit for all I care.”

Rebecca yanks his shoulders back to look him in the eyes. “Oh my god. You idiot.”

“No, no, I took some from where we didn’t pour it—”

“It doesn’t matter! That stuff is extremely potent, and it seeps into any place the steam spirals. Did you not read the warning label?!”

“Who’s got the time? Or the patience? That label always goes on and on about uncommon side effects and useless information—”

“That could have been helpful so you didn’t drink the Love Potion intended for Josh!”

Nathaniel’s eyebrows shoot up into his forehead, and he steps away from her, suddenly feeling self-conscious and guilty. What if he just crossed a line? She _ did _ say she wasn’t complaining, but what if he took it too far? Being under the influence certainly doesn’t help matters, but he’s not the one she needs to fall in love with her. He’s not usually one to admit he’s wrong, but he does feel a need to take responsibility for his error.

“Rebecca, I’m sorry, I really am. I didn’t mean for that to happen.”

She looks up at him in momentary shock at his apology, though it quickly fades when she takes a deep breath. “Well, it’s not like we can undo it now.” They stand in silence for a few moments before she breaks it with a nervous question. “So, what do you propose we do until it wears off? I give it another… 10 hours or so?”

Nathaniel stuffs his hands into the pockets of his robe, clearing his throat and attempting to compose himself. “I suppose we’ll just have to let the potion run its course, try not to make a big deal of it, and just move on.”

“Right. Right, absolutely. Ummm, I should probably go then so you can… let the potion run its course.”

Rebecca turns to exit the Room of Requirement, but Nathaniel’s voice makes her pause. “Stay.” That was probably too demanding and definitely too needy; let’s try that again. “I… I want you to stay.” Once more for good measure. Maybe this time don’t bumble over your words, you moron. “Would you like to stay? You’re welcome to, but only if you want to.”

She takes her hand off of the door handle and turns to face him, a gentle smile appearing on her face. He’s leaning against the wall, his robe now open exposing his sweater and green tie that makes the green undertones in his eyes pop out. She crosses one ankle behind her and presses her thighs together underneath her skirt, hoping Nathaniel doesn’t notice. “I want to.”

They sit next to each other on the floor discussing everything from inter-House hookups and bust-ups to art and music and history. He brushes her up on the history of the Wizarding World, and she introduces him to something called musical theatre that she knows entirely too much about to be considered normal. Naturally, when he pokes fun at the dorkiness of her musical theatre knowledge, she quickly counters with teasing his knowledge of every Quidditch champion from every house since his grandfather studied at Hogwarts.

“It’s called ‘honoring tradition,’ what’s your excuse?”

“It’s called ‘life’s more than catching balls and scoring points.’” She meant it as a joke but realizes how Nathaniel bristles as her tone. She scoots away from him, putting a few more centimeters distance between them. “Sorry, I didn’t mean it like that. You have your interests, I have mine. I guess in some ways, you’ll never understand me, and I’ll never understand you.”

But in some ways, he does understand her. Really understand her. He knows that she refuses to settle for less than perfection, just like him, and she’ll fight tooth and nail for every ounce of recognition and praise she can get. He gets her sense of humor, quirky and obscure as it is sometimes. She doesn’t have many real friends; he understands. Even if she swears she wants to be left alone, it’s difficult to admit to the darkest cavern of yourself that you feel lonely. Maybe he doesn’t understand every Muggle reference she makes or can’t begin to comprehend how she sees so much good in people after the way people have treated her, but she can’t say he would never understand her.

Rebecca picks at a loose thread in the sleeve of her robe, pulling her legs underneath herself. “I didn’t give him the cupcakes.”

Nathaniel furrows his eyebrows and turns his body to face her more directly. “What?”

She takes a breath and looks up at him. “I didn’t give them to him. I thought about it, had them in my hand and everything, and I was going to give them to him this morning when I passed him in the courtyard, but… I thought about what you said, and you were right. It won’t generate real love; it’s just a fabrication of love that’s really thinly disguised obsession. _ I _ actually read the label. Plus, it only lasts about a day. Also, I don’t even know how to brew the potion, so I couldn’t make more. And I would _ never _ want to deceive Josh, that wouldn’t be right.”

“Right, the whole ‘good person’ thing. Do you ever wish you could just turn that off? If I could turn it off for you sometimes, nothing would make me happier.”

“Sometimes, perhaps. I mean, I’d like to think I’m naturally a pretty good person, but there are some moments when I wish I could just turn off my guilty conscience, you know? Just… strip it all away, and then, I could do whatever I really wanted.”

“I see,” he replies with a thick swallow. What he wouldn’t give. Except that’s definitely not how she intended her sentence to come out. No matter since she continues on.

“I like the person that I am, but sometimes… I don’t always want to be so good.”

“How do you mean?” She looks at him and tilts her head as if the answer is obvious. Which it is to him. She doesn’t want to say the words, but he will. “_ Oh. _ Huh, interesting. So, you’re not as innocent as everyone thinks you are?”

“No, I am. Josh is my first and only.” Rebecca fills in some of the space between them, scooting over just a bit. “But it doesn’t mean I haven’t had thoughts about it with people… other than Josh.”

Nathaniel closes in another small gap on the stone floor beneath them. “You found out he’s not good, didn’t you?”

“Oh, he’s good, no doubt. But Josh is a tender and giving lover, and maybe sometimes, I don’t always want it to be so… tender.”

“Dare I say, it sounds like you’re a little kinky.”

Rebecca’s leg brushes against his when she closes the remaining space on the floor between them. Their faces move close enough to touch, but even though he’s teasing her, tempting her to take the bait he’s dangling in front of her face, he’s allowing for her to make the final choice. She leans a little closer. “And what if I was?”

Nathaniel looks at her through his lashes and knows he can’t deny the electric chemistry between them. Whether or not she wants to give into the tension is entirely her decision. Either way, he’s doomed, he knows that much. “I might have reason to celebrate if that’s true.”

“Get the balloons out because I guess the party starts now then,” she whispers back before capturing his lips with her own.

His hand immediately reaches up to cup the back of her head, his fingers winding into her loose hair as he opens his mouth to let her tongue inside at her request. Rebecca, tired of twisting her body at an uncomfortable angle, swings her leg over both of Nathaniel’s outstretched ones and settles in his lap to kiss him deeper. Fisting his hair in her hand, she kisses down his jawline and nibbles at the soft, uncovered flesh of his neck.

“Rebecca, you’re so good at this. How are you so good at this?” She smiles and continues to tease him, popping the top button of his shirt open to expose more skin. She doesn’t notice, but every so often, when she moans and turns her head, she works her hips down a little further on his lap each time, but Nathaniel’s concern is that this escapade might be over prematurely if she keeps that up. Warningly, he steadies a hand on her hip and pulls back for a moment. “Hey, hey, I’m sorry, I’m just a little… sensitive.”

She raises her eyebrows. “Oh. I figured Quidditch would have helped your stamina.”

“Ordinarily, that’s true. However, being under the influence of a Love Potion complicates things. So, I guess that means I’ll have to find another way to pass the time.”

“I’m sure you’ll think of something,” Rebecca simpers, pulling her bottom lip into her mouth. 

She moves off of his lap and stretches out on the floor beside him, sitting up and unbuttoning her robe at the top to shrug it off her shoulders and to the ground behind her. She leans back on her hands, pushing her chest towards him, and Nathaniel’s mouth drops open. Sure, he’s had many a fantasy of what she’d be like in recent memory, but nothing compares to the sultry look in her eyes as she opens each button on her sweater one by one and maintains eye contact with him until she’s reached the final button. Rebecca crosses one ankle over the other and fans her skirt out from her legs, hoping he’ll make the move. He does.

Nathaniel moves quickly over to her, kissing her once more and gently helping her onto her back. He slots a knee between her legs, and Rebecca moans, arching her back and opening her legs a little more. If he just shifts a little more forward, that’s exactly where she needs the pressure the most. His hand resting on her hip just above the hem of her pleated skirt, Nathaniel almost ventures lower, makes her think she’s about to get what she wants, but instead, he rubs his thumb over her hip and kisses her slowly, savoring the pop of his lips against her skin when he separates from her.

“While this is _ very _ nice, don’t get me wrong, we do have Care of Magical Creatures soon, so whatever you’re going to do, make it quick, please?”

“What are you talking about? I see a magical creature in front of me that I can take care of, and you’re certainly a lot better looking than a Chimaera.”

Rebecca rolls her eyes, but instead of rolling upward in annoyance, they roll back into her head in pleasure when Nathaniel loosens her tie and flicks a button open to have better access to her neck. “Well, whatever it is you plan to do, I suggest you make it quick. Professor Whitefeather will begin to worry if we don’t turn up soon.”

Nathaniel pulls away from her neck and makes sure to look her in the eyes as he speaks. “Two things. One: please don’t mention Professor Whitefeather in a sexual moment ever again. And two: you don’t have to worry about me being quick with this, but rather, I’d suggest _ you _ make it quick. Not that that’ll be a problem, right?”

“Smug bastard,” she grumbles without malice, her protest falling away as his fingers dip beneath her underwear and tease her entrance. Rebecca’s lips open, and she moans deliciously. He’s been yearning all day and night to hear that sound from her, and it sounds even more beautiful and melodic in person. She lets his fingers fill her, one then two, thrusting slowly in and out, curling upwards to stroke her front wall. His name leaves her lips with a breathy whimper, and he fingers her quickly to trigger her release. The kisses down her neck and the filth spewing from his mouth certainly helps get her there quickly.

He helps her down from her orgasm and changes the pace of his kisses to help her breathing return to normal. She’s flushed red, and the tiniest beads of sweat pool at her hairline. Fuck, she’s so beautiful. She starts to reach for the tent in his pants, but he quickly swats her hand away, promising she can make it up to him in a private study session. Rebecca stands up to readjust her clothes, and Nathaniel breaks the silence between them.

“Hey.”

“Hi.”

“You know, I never did ask you, I upheld my end of your deal, and I’m still waiting for you to uphold yours. You promised me a name of someone who was in need of my… services. I’m curious as to who it is.”

Rebecca pauses after buttoning her sweater underneath her robe, and she takes a few steps towards the door, smiling at him without her teeth, eyes coy and playful. Nathaniel looks at her curiously and follows in her path wondering what game she’s playing.

“So, you just aren’t going to tell me? You’re going to insist on teasing me for your own amusement?”

“Oh, don’t be daft, Plimpton.” She rises up on her tiptoes and presses her mouth to his ear. “It’s not just my conscience I want you to strip away.” His mouth opens and closes a few times, but he’s unable to form a coherent sentence given that his brain completely short-circuited in a matter of seconds. Before he has time to respond, Rebecca’s peeking out from the other side of the door with an innocent smile. “See you in class.”

The door shuts behind her, and Nathaniel feels himself growing hard all over again. _ Well, I can’t go out there like this now. _ He tips his head back and focuses on anything unsavory to tamp down his erection. George, his fourth year sidekick, playing the bagpipes in that dumb skirt. A Chimaera. Bananas. Stupid for it to be called a fruit when it’s much better suited in the candy section. He realizes quickly that he’s made a grave error in imagining the yellow fruit because he can only imagine Rebecca consuming it and transfiguring it into something more salacious.

Before too long, he’s finally worked himself into his typical demeanor and exits the Room with just over 5 minutes to spare before class begins. Sure, he’ll be there a few minutes late, but he’s the Slytherin prefect, which gives him a few more rights and privileges than his buddies. Unfortunately, Professor Whitefeather doesn’t see entering class in the middle of the lesson with no penalty as one of them, so as such, he’s put on duty of taking care of the Crup… crap. Reduced to dog shit. Glorious.

Rebecca tries to hide her giggle at his reprimand, but she clams up when Nathaniel shoots her a look that makes her fear the worst, and she blinks her eyes a few times in rapid succession in apology. He responds with a miniscule shake of his head and a deliciously evil smirk that she recognizes as his trademark “up to no good” look. Tonight’s study session should be interesting.

Their class finishes just in time for supper to begin in the Great Hall, and Rebecca finds every possible configuration of ways to avoid Nathaniel. She knows he’s up to something, and given her behavior in the last few hours, she’s not done herself any favors, especially while he’s under the effects of Amortentia. Honestly, she’s wondering how he’s survived this long without causing a scene and how no one else has noticed anything unusual yet.

“Hey, can you tell my House’s obnoxious prefect to stop trying to make eyes at you and subsequently me? Thaaaankssss,” Valencia snarks, leaning into Rebecca’s ear. Spoke too soon. Nathaniel’s not taken his eyes off of Rebecca, who’s sitting two tables away with her girl mob thing, and he’s stirring his finger around the rim of his goblet while trying to seduce Rebecca from afar.

At first, she feigns annoyance and shoots her eyebrows up to silently tell Nathaniel to knock it off so that she can enjoy her dinner in peace. He’s having none of it, however, and forks a carrot on his plate, lifts it to his mouth, and sinks his teeth into the end of it. She looks away with an unimpressed eye roll and returns to cutting her meat. Of course, he chooses to wait until her head lifts from her plate to stick the other rounded end of the carrot in his mouth, but this time, he sucks it in with his lips puckered around the end. Makes a grand show of swirling his tongue around the vegetable before ingesting the rest of it, all while maintaining direct eye contact with Rebecca, whose jaw is now slack in utter shock. She mouths something that looks like “what the…” before Nathaniel winks and turns back to his conversation with Josh Wilson like nothing happened.

She gets her revenge, as is her right. When the elves come around with dessert, pumpkin pie made from pumpkins of the first harvest of the season, Rebecca bats her eyes and asks Patrick for just a little more whipped cream for the top of her pie. This is after she apologizes for yelling at him the other night about where he keeps his dessert cookbooks when she was searching for her frosting recipe. She never meant to be harsh; she was just a desperate young woman on a quest for love. Patrick does concede and gives her an extra dollop of cream on the side of her pie. Once Rebecca works her way to the crust and sets it aside, she sees she’s still got her extra scoop of whipped cream on her plate and gets a dirty thought.

Rebecca captures his attention, staring up at him through her lashes, and once she’s certain his eyes are on her, she scoops up the white fluff with her first finger and licks a circle around it before taking the finger in her mouth to suck the cream off. Nathaniel grips the edge of the wooden table until his knuckles turn white as he stares at Rebecca, and either she must be either dumb as the board underneath his hand or a glutton for punishment. He knows she isn’t the former, so the latter it is, he assumes, and the thought of that stirs heat in his veins all over again. She must have forgotten what she’s asking for.

When dinner concludes, Rebecca wishes her friends farewell for the evening as they all head towards their respective common rooms. Rebecca sighs and starts up the stairs to the Gryffindor common room to finish her Transfiguration homework before her hallway patrol. She doesn’t get far before she’s dragged backwards by her wrist, and someone’s whispering in her ear not to scream, covering her mouth when she tries.

“Seriously, Rebecca?” Her thighs clench as she’s pressed against the door and smells a faint hint of his cologne and knows who’s standing in front of her with his lips on her neck. Wandlessly, Nathaniel casts a _ Colloportus _ over the door behind her to lock it and returns to kissing her neck. “First, you present me with that _ interesting _ nugget of information before class, then flutter away like it never happened, leaving me in a closet to fend for myself.” 

After shucking her robe to the floor, he flicks the buttons on her sweater open for the second time that day and continues. “Then, you mock my pain in class and think I won’t take notice.”

Sliding his hand up her skirt, he drags his fingers on the outsides of her thighs and up to her ass, digging his fingers into the flesh over her underwear. “And to make matters worse for yourself, you insisted on being a ridiculous cocktease at the dinner table. I had assumed your Muggle mother told you not to play with your food, but apparently, you’ve no regard for table manners either. Anything to say for yourself?”

Rebecca stammers, too aroused to offer any witty comeback or sufficient explanation for her coquettish behavior. Nathaniel laughs lowly against her skin, and she thinks it might be one of the most attractive sounds she’s ever heard. Not only because it’s a rare one, but the way it tickles her skin as it vibrates in his throat sets her skin aflame.

“I’ve seemed to have rendered Rebecca Bunch, the girl who never shuts up, speechless. Interesting. You know, I have half a mind to punish you for all your transgressions today. Over my knee might be a nice place to start.” Rebecca moans and rolls her hips towards Nathaniel. Yes, that would be a very good place to start, indeed. “But I won’t do that. I think you’ll enjoy that too much, won’t you, dirty girl?”

Rebecca tips her head up to him and kisses him, her hands gripping the back of his neck and shoulder like a lifeline, pulling him impossibly closer. He wedges his leg between her thighs to let her grind her hips down to relieve the aching pressure at her center.

“You’re a desperate little thing, aren’t you? Tell me what you need, and it’s yours.” Rebecca starts to reach for his belt, but he quickly wraps his fingers around her wrist and pushes it back to the door, repeating the action with the other to keep her from trying with that hand.

“I want… I want to feel you.”

“You’ll have to be more specific than that.”

Rebecca squirms restlessly in his grip. “I want you inside of me.”

“Getting closer. Come on, you can say the word. Unless, of course, you’re scared you might get in trouble for using foul language.”

“I’m not scared,” Rebecca scoffs. “I’ve used a swear word or two in my day.”

“Then _ fucking _ tell me what you want, then.”

He’s staring at her waiting for her response and won’t budge until she’s said the magic words of what she needs. Sure, they both know it, but Salazar save him, he needs her to say it.

“I want your cock fucking me until I’m sore for a week. Think you can handle that?”

It’s one thing just imagining her begging him to fuck her, but it’s another when he hears it from her lips. And now she’s challenging him? His dick grows underneath his pants as he smirks at her.

“The question is, can you?”

“Guess we’ll find out.”

Nathaniel casts a _ Muffliato _ charm over the area to hopefully mask the sounds of their coupling. Something told him that charm would be useful. He kisses Rebecca with an open and hungry mouth, moreso devouring her than kissing her. She doesn’t seem to mind the frantic and messy pace of his kisses. At least she isn’t all prim and proper all the time.

His kisses descend downwards, his lips attaching to each new patch of exposed skin as he unbuttons her white shirt. He skims his lips over the material of her skirt and places a quick nip at each of her hipbones, then disappears underneath a sea of black twill. Rebecca’s drowning in sensation, from the teasing kisses he’s placed down the slope of her stomach to the rows of barely there kisses he’s pressing into her inner thighs, close but not exactly to where she needs them. Finally, he offers her some relief when he pushes aside her soaked underwear and licks a long line through her folds that practically has her quaking in his arms. He’s barely gotten started, and she’s already moaning so sweetly? He tries not to linger in the stroking of his manly ego, but it certainly gives him a great deal of pride to know he’s talented in amorous ways as well.

Since she’s clearly enjoying herself up there, now only in her bra, and has taken one of her hands underneath her bra cup to play with her nipple, Nathaniel begins to have a little fun on his own. He’s been complimented on his dexterity with his fingers, and he’s working on delivering the same satisfaction with his tongue as well. Not that he’s ever received any complaints, but it’s nice to have a robust résumé. Currently, he’s having fun practicing spelling for the written portion of his Charms O.W.L., and the word on his tongue is _ Rictusempra, _otherwise known as the Tickling Charm. He deems it an appropriate time and place for that charm, silly though it normally is.

“Nathaniel, please…”

“Please what?”

“I need…” Rebecca reaches down and finds his hair, curling her fingers and pressing his mouth more fully to her throbbing clit. Thankfully, he gets the message and dives in deeper, his hands coming up to her ass cheeks for more leverage. “Oh, shit, I’m gonna…”

“Yes, come for me,” he commands. She does, grinding against his mouth as she rides out her pleasure, and he’s there to lick up every drop of her essence with a devilish grin as he does so. He stands up gingerly and kisses her lips, and she eagerly tastes herself on his tongue. “Chan never ate you out like that, did he?”

Rebecca shakes her head and kisses him back with full force. This is what she wanted: someone to give it to her without reservation. She’s tried to get Josh to understand her desires, but the Hufflepuff in him screams not to hurt her every time he’s tried. Nathaniel, on the other hand, seems to be remorseless in dishing out his share of rough kisses and giving her the darker desires she craves.

Of course, he still asks her permission to continue and makes sure this is what she wants. He certainly doesn’t need a scandal on his hands while he’s priming himself to be Head Boy in a year or so. Nathaniel turns her around to face the door and presses her palms flat against the wood. His hand caresses her ass, now properly presented before him.

“The things I’ve dreamt about doing to this ass,” he praises, watching the way she reacts when he gives her a little slap. “You liked that, didn’t you?” Rebecca nods and pushes her hips back into him, and he chuckles, taking notice of her need. “I see you’ve made your point. Are you protected?”

“Of course.”

“Thank Merlin. I want to feel every inch of you.”

He doesn’t give her much warning before he’s lining himself up and sinking inside of her with a low groan. Better than his wildest imagination. Rebecca moans, and it’s sweet and perfect but much too loud for their current situation.

Nathaniel leans down and hisses in her ear. “Don’t make me have to use the Silencing Charm on you.”

Rebecca whimpers, and her inner muscles clench at his whispered threat.

“It would be such a shame if someone walked by and heard Gryffindor’s princess getting fucked like a common whore, now wouldn’t it?”

It embarrasses her to admit how much she’s envisioned similar scenarios, especially in recent days, but even her most vivid musings of a stolen moment with him couldn’t compare to having the real thing in front, or she should say behind, her. She’s heard whisperings from other girls about their sexual encounters with Nathaniel Plimpton; he’s got a bit of a reputation for being a womanizer, but his talents tend to make them forget that he’s a bit of an ass. At least he’s not all talk and no action. Plus, he did make sure to tend to her needs before his own, so perhaps he’s not as much of an ass as she thought.

Asshole or not, he sure knows how to please a witch. Rebecca rocks with him as he sets a dirty rhythm that has her arching her back and begging for more. She’s trying not to give herself away, but when he’s making her feel more sexually satisfied than ever before, it’s impossible to be shy about it. He’s asking her about what she likes, makes her beg for it a little. He’s particularly pleased when she asks him to pull her hair; he’s all too happy to oblige since he’s been itching to do that for years. Nathaniel makes her come again and barely holds himself back long enough to let her finish first, spilling into her shortly after with a curse and a tight grip on the front of her hip.

When Nathaniel gently pulls out of her and tucks himself into his pants, he lets Rebecca recover before cupping her cheeks in his hands and kissing her gently, softer than she would have expected after such a raw sexual moment. He keeps kissing her for a while before she eventually pulls back with a reluctant moan.

“You know we have hallway patrol soon.”

“Come on, technically, we got a head start. Just a few more minutes?”

“Nathaniel,” she warns with a sing-song lilt.

“Hmmm?” He nips at her bottom lip, and Rebecca shakes her head with a smile. As much as she would love to spend the rest of the evening in here alone with him, she knows they have a reality to get back to.

“We have to go.” She pauses and presses her mouth to his ear. “But it doesn’t mean we can’t pick this up some other time.”

“I do happen to know a fair amount of spots to stow away in.”

“Of course you do,” she teases. She gives him one parting peck before turning towards the door. “See you in 15, Plimpton?”

“Wouldn’t miss it, Bunch.”

A sort of irony falls over a mostly silent Gryffindor and Slytherin as they roam the hallways for miscreants probably participating in similar activities that they were minutes ago. The sex-craving Slytherin resists every impulse to push her up against the walls of every darkened corner of the castle, though he does try tempting the object of his affections. Once they’ve finished their rounds, Rebecca asks him to walk her back to the dormitory, but he can’t drop her off for the night without tucking her hair behind her ear and planting a whisper-soft kiss on her cheek before wishing her sweet dreams.

She turns and looks back at him as he walks down the hallway, and he catches a glimpse of her smiling at him. He could feel the effects of the Amortentia beginning to fizzle out as they made their rounds about the castle, and he expected to return back to rolling his eyes at her goody-good attitude or her mop of misplaced curls. But he doesn’t.

The night before, he ran off accidentally taking the extra phials of the Amortentia with him, so he stashed them in his robe and hid them away in the chest by his bed, intent to forget all about them. Briefly, he considers taking a drop from one before giving them to Rebecca the next day, just in case she ever had a use for them again. However, he doesn’t and falls asleep almost immediately as his head hits the pillow.

The next morning at breakfast, he spots her across the room with the front pieces of her hair pinned back in two small braids and the rest flowing down past her shoulders in waves. She finds his eyes and smiles, and it’s not just the light filtering through the window that makes her expression sparkle. He smiles back at her, not a haughty smile, but a genuine one.

He supposes she really is lovely, and not just for a half-blood.


End file.
